Safety in the Storm

Safety in the Storm Chapter Five

Author note: This is unbeta'ed because my dear sister is too busy and I was so excited to get another part out so soon, I didn't want to wait. So in other words, I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors that I may have missed.

Jennie

CONFUSION IS NOTHING NEW

"I see you've met Jonathan."

It was funny how it only took a refulgent smile by a dangerously handsome man and a half asleep and half naked Draco to make her want to sit in the corner and start rocking. The only thing that kept her in place was the fact that the dashing stranger still had his large hand wrapped around her upper arm. She was extremely grateful for the darkness that hid the room because it masked her intensely red face.

"Actually," the man said in a surprisingly gentle voice. His rich brown eyes searched hers with a concerned twinkle as he slowly removed his hand and stepped away. It seemed as though he thought that without the support his hand had given her, she was going to simply crumble to the floor. Her irritation at that quickly overrode her embarrassment. "We haven't been properly introduced yet," he finished, whipping his wand around, bringing instant flames to the many candles scattered throughout the room.

Seeing him in the light was even more jaw dropping and Hermione had to force herself to stop staring and shake his hand before he flashed those pearly whites again.

Only he didn't. Shake her hand, that is. The smile appeared as soon as her hand jutted out and he leaned down and softly brushed his lips across the top, practically making her swoon. And Hermione Granger did not swoon. While Draco had that arrogant, sophisticated handsomeness to him, Jonathan was the complete opposite with a boyish grin and sparkling eyes.

"I'm Jonathan Pierce, self-proclaimed protector of Draco." Draco snorted loudly but they both ignored him. "And I serve as clean up crew to his incessantly bad choices and mistakes."

Wait. Did he just say that she was a mistake? She narrowed her eyes.

"I have come to get you two out of this godforsaken hell hole," he said, louder this time, as he turned to look at Draco. Jonathan's smile widened and he hopped up on the counter, resting back against the cabinet above. No matter how much she tried not to, she felt her eyes soften at his easygoing demeanor. It was definitely refreshing after the past day of hell she'd had. "And you must be the lovely Hermione Granger who started this whole mess."

It was her turn to say something. She didn't think she had uttered anything at all, well discounting the shriek she emitted earlier when he apparated in, and that was so unlike her. As she still fumbled for words, he quirked his head to the side curiously.

'Say something!' her mind screamed.

"You're American."

Way to state the obvious. Flinching, Hermione looked to Draco. He was wearing that damn infuriating smirk again as he leaned against the doorjamb. But annoying as it was, it was just what she needed to ground herself, to clear her hazy mind.

Jonathan laughed and patted her head as he would a child. "So I am."

Smiling up at him sweetly, she hefted herself up next to him. "It's nice to meet you," she replied softly. Then added, "I'm glad that you're here. If I had to be alone with Draco much longer there would be much blood shed. And you know how difficult it is to get blood stains out."

His laugh was genuine and carefree and Hermione instantly knew she could trust him. He reminded her of Ron. There was a moment where he looked back and forth from Draco to her again with a strange smile on his face but it was over before she had a chance to comment on it.

"Yes, I do," he agreed with a conspiratorial wink. Hopping down, he crossed to Draco and gave him one of those handshake hug-slash-back pats that guys always gave each other. She jumped down as well but hung back, almost feeling as though she were intruding.

But Hermione couldn't help but feel awed at the obvious ease of their camaraderie. Draco's smile was alighted in abandonment although she was not clear on exactly what he was forsaking. Maybe it was a drop in pretence, a slackening in the guarded exterior... whatever it was, it made him look years younger. They consulted quietly for a moment and she could honestly say that she did not attempt to listen in.

From the brevity of it, it couldn't have been all that interesting anyway.

"Well, if you both would excuse me, I haven't showered in a day and using a port key always leaves me feeling less than fresh. That is, if this dump even HAS a bathroom." His nose scrunched up as he glanced around. Draco gestured to the other room impatiently and Jonathan left after flashing that heart throb smile at her again. She watched him salute Draco mockingly before he disappeared from view, an amused smile tugging at her mouth. Shaking her head, she giggled as she heard bits of exclamations about the filthiness of the cabin from the other room.

Suddenly, she was aware of a warm body close to hers and she raised her eyebrows curiously at Draco who had somehow sidled up next to her without her noticing. He seemed to be studying the scar on her neck again and she shied away self-consciously.

"You know, Hermione, if you were any more obvious, you would be drooling down his neck," he whispered with a hint of sarcasm, his heated breath blowing across her cheek and ear. How could such a simple act by him make her knees so weak? It didn't seem fair.

She knew she should retort, she wanted desperately to retort but it was so damn impossible with him so close. Abruptly, she pulled away, resting against the counter once again trying to keep her breathing even. Her mouth opened but the words froze in her throat when she saw the flickering candle light burning in his eyes and the way his lips slightly parted as though he too were struggling for breath.

His face inched closer and she felt his fingers caress her arm so softly she might have thought it had been the breeze. As if time had slowed to little more than a crawl, Draco brushed his lips across hers feather light and pulled back enough for her to see the storm raging in his eyes. He was a tempest, one that she should run far away from yet she couldn't; rain and lightening had always intrigued her.

Again, their lips were fluttering against each other's and her eyes fell shut as the world began to spin. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pressed his mouth to hers, firmer and warmer than before and she gasped aloud at the sensation.

This was what kissing was meant to be like and Hermione wondered how she had gotten through her life thus far without experiencing this.

Clutching at his bare arms, she was in desperate need of something to ground her through the whirlwind of emotions that consumed her. Her awareness had dimmed and only the feeling of his arms around her waist, his hair brushing her cheek, and his tongue running over her lip were registered.

Someone moaned breathily and she wasn't sure if she did it or not. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the taut feel of his skin--

"Hey Draco!" Jonathan's voice from the other room was like a bucket of ice cold water. Draco wrenched himself away, leaving her feeling cold and abandoned against the counter. "Do you have any extra towels?"

Swearing softly, Draco looked back at her, his expression back to being an unreadable mask, and left.

Oh no, this didn't complicate things at all.

Ten minutes later, the three of them were sitting in the living room in front of the fire, Hermione and Jonathan on the couch and Draco on the floor across from them. She was ashamed to admit it but she couldn't bring herself to look at Draco.

Immature, she knew, yet he seemed to have an uncanny ability to bring that side out in her.

"What I'm trying to say is that there's something amiss with Damien," Jonathan was saying to Draco as he rubbed a towel over his short black hair. "Something's about to happen or is already happening."

"Shit. That means that the time table we have..." Draco trailed off and Hermione braved a glance at him. The scowl on his face had deepened; he looked murderous.

"He sent me to the states to talk with a man named Craig McDowell."

"Never heard of him," Draco muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. It was quite childlike.

"Not surprised," Jonathan continued. "I was there to recruit." He grimaced and looked into the raging fire.

Unable to contain the questions that were brimming inside her any longer, Hermione leaned forward. "Who's Damien?"

To say that Jonathan looked surprised would be an understatement. "You haven't told her?"

Glaring, she turned back to Draco who was absently shaking his head.

"Well, love, Damien is our quote end quote boss. See, he's an American who shared Voldemort's ideals and began to form his own liege of death eaters back home. I was sent by my government to infiltrate, which I did just in time for Damien to decide he wanted to join forces with Voldemort. Thirty of us came here about ten years ago, two years before Voldemort's defeat. Damien shot up to the inner circle extremely fast mainly due to his ruthlessness and cunning."

Draco sighed and scratched the back of his neck as he looked at her. "It is believed that it was Damien and not Voldemort who orchestrated the kidnapping of you and Weasley to lure Potter to him." She watched as his eyes flicked from hers to Jonathan's.

"You're...?" Jonathan shook his head. "This just gets more interesting by the minute."

"But why wouldn't he have gone after Harry again? No one's tried," Hermione questioned, ignoring Jonathan.

"That's just it. Damien didn't do it to kill Harry, he did it to get rid of Voldemort. Who else but Harry would be able to destroy him once and for all?" Draco's voice had a bitter quality to it and he stood up.

"And of course," Jonathan added in. "If he did it himself, none of Voldemort's loyal followers would accept Damien as the new leader."

"So, the death eaters were never squashed? All those arrests... it wasn't all of them?... All of you?" Flinching, her eyes unconsciously went to their covered forearms.

Jonathan must have seen this because he lifted his sleeve revealing an unblemished expanse of skin. "When Voldemort was destroyed, they disappeared. And no, the army of death eaters were not devastated at all, not by a long shot. Damien is different than Voldemort in that he doesn't get caught up in short-term plans. He's in it for the long haul and isn't afraid to plan each and every detail out years in advance. That's what has us so worried. The plan isn't supposed to come into effect for another year. And then there was your kidnapping. He would never do something so rash if his plan weren't already in motion. And this means that he's not being as forthcoming about his schemes as we'd hoped."

There was silence for a while as Hermione digested this.

"Now, we need to hide YOU away," Jonathan looked pointedly at Hermione and he must have noticed her depression at the statement because he slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, love. Be realistic. Just because you got away, doesn't mean they're not going to come after you again. And don't worry, the place I have in mind is a hell of a lot nicer than this place."

Draco looked up from the spot on the floor he had been examining and narrowed his eyes at Jonathan. "She's not staying in your flat with you. That building is crawling with death eaters."

"I wouldn't dream of it. Besides, I moved out last week, remember?"

Now Draco's eyes became wide and he began pacing. "No. No way. Not uh."

"Come on, Draco. Think about it. It's the last place anyone will think to look for her."

"No. You don't know what's there--"

"Where? What are you two talking about?"

They both looked at her as though they had forgotten she was in the room. Jonathan looked to the other man who simply threw up his hands, muttering to himself.

"Well, I had rather despised my apartment for a long time and Damien offered me use of his family manor."

"But I thought he was American."

"Yes, but originally he was from England. His parents died when he and his sister were very young, no one knows how old for sure, and they were shipped off to America to live with some distant relative." She raised an eyebrow at his vagueness and Jonathan shrugged. "He's very tight lipped about his childhood... well, about everything."

"So you want to take me to his childhood home? I think I'm going to have to side with Draco on this one. That is a sucky idea."

"No, it isn't. It's brilliant. His parents died in that house and Damien hasn't stepped foot in it since. Think about it. He practically GAVE me the place. He wanted to get rid of it."

Sighing, Hermione looked to Draco. He had retreated to the window and was gazing out listlessly. This was going to piss him off.

"Fine," she admonished, holding up her hand as Draco spun around. "But on one condition." She looked Draco in the eye.

"What's that?" Jonathan asked.

"I need to speak with Harry. He needs to know that I'm alright."

Still holding her gaze, Draco stepped forward. "Write him a note. I don't want you anywhere near your house--"

"No," Jonathan broke in. "It's perfect. It'll help to build you an alibi."

"What do you mean?" Draco finally looked away and she felt her heart thump at the loss of contact.

"If Hermione shows up at her house with two men, it would support my previous theory about her having help."

Draco nodded slowly, seeing where Jonathan was headed. "Glamours. Just pop in long enough to show Potter she's alright and create witnesses and then pop out. Of course, once at the manor, you'll have to rough me up a bit for it to be believable when I come crawling back..." he trailed off, lost in thought.

"It'll be my pleasure. We should go right before dawn. That gives us about three hours of sleep." As Hermione stood and stretched, Jonathan took the opportunity to rest his legs where she had been sitting. "I call the couch."

Giggling, Hermione left the two men to bicker by themselves, and headed towards the bedroom. But she stopped when Draco stepped in as well.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he moved to the pile of blankets.

He looked at her, face defined in the faint moonlight. There was a surprising definition to his jaw line that spoke of an innately strong stubbornness and she found it curiously alluring.

"You offered me half the mattress," he reminded her with a patronizing grin.

She scoffed. "That was before."

He stepped up close to her and her mind unwillingly drifted back to their kiss. "This is MY mattress."

Grinning devilishly, she attempted a pout. "But I was hoping to share with Jonathan."

He growled deeply in his throat and she smiled smugly. That was, until he called to the other man.

"Sorry, Jonathan. Hermione wants to cuddle with YOU. I'm on the couch tonight." And he left.

All she could think was...

Shit.

There were muffled whispers on the other side of the door and Hermione used that time to slip into the bed. She was confident that Jonathan would not be the one next to her that night and she wasn't sure if she felt terrified or excited about that prospect.

The doorknob rattled and she smiled at the door triumphantly. But it wasn't Draco that was before her, it was Jonathan. Hermione's excitement burst before them like a bubble.

"Oh, it's you," she said after he closed the door. Her disappointment, which she didn't want to admit she was feeling, was barely hidden in her voice.

"Okay, this time with less enthusiasm," he joked, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. "Don't worry, I'll be a good boy."

She cringed at her rudeness. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

He nodded and collapsed back on top of the blankets next to her. "I know. You were hoping I was him."

"Hardly," she replied but even to her own ears it sounded forced.

"Love, I saw it in your eyes the moment I walked in. I have often said that Draco is like a fine wine. He has the innate ability to intoxicate women to silliness."

Hermione found herself chuckling despite the images of random women throwing themselves at him that popped into her mind. "Yes, but cheap wines do that as well."

He looked at her knowingly. "But do they taste as good?"

Her head shot up sharply and she wondered if he had meant that to have a double innuendo. Then she rolled over, uncomfortable at the images that overwhelmed her mind at the thought. Silently, she examined the man beside her. He was only a few years older than she was and had spent ten years spying on death eaters yet he still had managed to hold on to his humor, his humanity. It was a wonder.

"What do you think of Draco?" he asked suddenly.

Slightly taken aback, she hesitated. "Truthfully? He's an egotistical son of a bitch." She smiled frankly at his shocked expression at her words. "Yet he seems to have developed a conscience since I last saw him, so I guess it's an improvement."

He nodded again. "You know, he's not so bad. He just has a hard time trusting people. But once he does, his sullen attitude diminishes. And, from what I saw of that kiss earlier, you're soon going to be added to that short list."

She gasped at peered at him, shocked. "You saw that?"

"Aww, don't be embarrassed, love. And I'm really sorry about interrupting." His eyes looked at her pleadingly though she knew he did it in fun. "Forgive me?" he pouted.

Hermione felt a small smile building. "Yes, yes. Just don't let it happen again," she told him, balling her hands into fists to prevent the urge to playfully thwack him one.

He slipped under the covers and mimicked her position, laying on his side to face her. "So I take it you two knew each other before this?"

"Yeah. In school. And he was a million times worse than he is now, if you believe it. Although, now he has a darkness to him, an edge."

"Well, do you know what happened to his family?"

She nodded, vaguely remembering the details. "His mother died and his father went to Azkaban."

"Yes, well, his father was a bastard. From what I gather, he beat the shit out of Draco's mom often. I'm not quite sure if he ever touched Draco, but his mom wanted to protect him and sometime during his teenage years, she took Draco and ran off to this very cabin to hide. His father found them, and it was even worse from then on."

"God, if I had known..." she trailed off, thinking about the small charm she had found earlier and his reaction to it. And then her mind went to him as a child, and the many insults they had traded. And the whole time he had been dealing with these issues.

"If you had known, Draco would've probably hated you even more. In case you haven't been able to tell yet, Draco is not fond of weakness."

She nodded, seeing the truth in this.

"So anyway, Draco followed his father's orders and became a death eater, no doubt hoping to protect his mother because I know for a fact that his heart was never in it. That is until, Lucius killed his mother on Damien's order--punishment for a botched job--five years ago. What Draco lived through those years leading up to that moment scarred him for life. It made him. Created him. That's when he approached Duff wanting to help bring down both his father and Damien. Lucius was easy but Damien--it's been five years and we're still working on it."

Closing her eyes, she again pictured the kiss in the kitchen. It was all about revenge.

"I'm sorry. I've talked long enough. I'll let you get to sleep."

"No. I like listening to you talk. It's almost soothing, well, as long as it's on a different subject." He smiled kindly at her. "Tell me about the manor?"

Giving her a curt nod, he began. "It's nothing compared to the Malfoy citadel but it's a hell of a lot nicer than most places I've been in. Besides, I don't think it's technically a manor. As far as I can tell, no feudal lords ever lived there. Now, keep in mind, I've only explored a small portion of it so far, what with Draco going all heroic on me. But there's this library on the first floor that's so immense..."

As he continued talking, Hermione felt sleep overtake her.

*****

The next thing she knew, she was woken up by hushed voices. When she opened her eyes, she caught sight of Draco and Jonathan discussing something by the door.

"Is it time to go?" she groaned, peering up at the ceiling in the early morning darkness.

Jonathan answered. "Yeah, love. Time to get up."

Before she even had a chance to respond, Draco stormed out of the room. Raising an eyebrow, she looked to Jonathan.

"Don't mind him. He's a bit of a grump in the morning."

Getting up was easier than she expected. In fact, the morning had a feel to it that left Hermione feeling invigorated. It was probably the fact that she would be seeing Harry, if for just a few minutes. She missed him immensely.

Fifteen minutes later, they were all ready to go. They stood in the living room, Draco on her right and Jonathan on her left. Obviously, some words had been said while she was in the bathroom because Draco was shooting death looks every time Jonathan looked at her.

He was jealous. Or at least it appeared that way to her.

Part of her thought it was quite sweet but the other part found it to be highly annoying. Guess which part was bigger.

"Since you're the only one who's been there, you're going to have to apparate us there, but bring us to a spot a little down the street," Draco said softly, and Jonathan handed her his wand.

She tried a simple spell of changing the color of the couch and nodded when it worked. Uncomfortably, she wrapped an arm around Jonathan's waist and then Draco's. She felt dwarfed between them and her heart sped up. She had never apparated with another person and it was nerve-wracking.

Draco must've sensed this because he leaned down and whispered into her ear so that Jonathan couldn't hear. "It's okay. It's the same a apparating yourself except picture all of us, not just yourself." And then, as a last thought he added, "I trust you."

That was what did it. Suddenly, she had all the confidence in the world to do it.

A blink of an eye later, they were there, back in her neighborhood. A dog barked faintly down the street but other than that, everything was silent.

"Good spot," Jonathan mumbled as he looked around. And yes, it was a good spot. Hermione was happy that she had thought about the small park.

"Which one's yours?" Draco asked and she pointed to her small yellow house and noticed that her garden needed watering. She made a mental note to remind Harry to do it.

Looking to Draco, she found she couldn't look away. She watched him stand there, in the shadows, watched as his eyes surveyed the neighborhood looking for anything suspicious and she noticed she had a slight tingle in her fingers.

Must have been the cold.

The chilling autumn air enveloped her. It was a clear reminder that snow was close upon them and she grinned despite the gravity of the situation. It was her favorite time of year. Then the wind picked up even more, slicing right through her with a keen edge.

She shivered and looked out into the night.

*****

If there was one thing he'd learned the day before, it was that Hermione had the absolute whiniest voice in the world when she was in an impatient mood. And now was no exception.

"How long are we going to stand here? You're going to catch a cold, you know."

Belatedly, Draco realized that comment had been directed at him. Being a guy, of course, he only shrugged noncommittally, ignoring the fact that he had his arms wrapped around his chest and was trying to keep his teeth from chattering. He was freezing his bloody ass off, but damn if he admitted it.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione snatched Jonathan's wand out of his hand and with a whispered word, his thin cloak became his own personal, portable heater. She smiled smugly and he had an uncontrollable urge to stick his tongue out at her. Or, at least, stick his tongue elsewhere. Thankfully, though, he refrained from both.

Turning to Jonathan he said, "By the tree to the right of the second house, on the roof by the blue truck and in the car across the street. No doubt the rest are in the back yard."

Jonathan nodded in agreement and took back his wand. Draco didn't know how he could be so nonchalant about Hermione using it like that. Draco had a hard time seeing anyone simply holding his.

Then again, that was Jonathan. It was who he was. That morning when Draco had gone in to wake them up, he had been so upset to see Jonathan holding her. How could he go from meeting her for the first time to holding her while they slept hardly an hour later?

But deep inside, he knew the truth. That wasn't what upset him. It was the fact that it should have been him holding her.

He watched as Jonathan cast glamour spells on his hair and face and then transfigured his cloak into a different style and color. He now, remarkably enough, looked like a long lost Weasley, freckles and all. Hermione must've seen the resemblance as well because she giggled quietly.

It was his turn. Idly, he picked through images in his mind.

'Who do you want to be?' he asked himself, as he always did before using a glamour. 'Who do you want to be?'

After a moment, he decided. His hair grew only a bit and turned dark as night, while his nose elongated and his face took on a pointed sallowness. If he had a mirror, he was sure he would resemble a young Severus Snape. Another spell and his cloak turned into the long flowing one modeled after the one their old potions professor was so fond of wearing.

Laughing, Hermione reached up and experimentally touched his cheek then nose. "You have issues."

"Just want to keep Potter on his toes. Let's go," he said and he saw her surprise and amusement. "I could do a spell to change my voice but what's the point? I'm not going to be talking at all."

She nodded and looked as though she were trying very hard not to roll on the grass laughing.

"Draco, you go up with her. I'll stay at the bottom of the porch."

And with that, they set off. Without thinking, Draco reached down and took Hermione's arm to escort her up the yard. He felt her, the feel of her arm, the heat of her body, and his hand tingled almost like an electrical impulse ran from her body into his. He wanted to move the cloth covering her arm and touch her skin again but they had already arrived at the porch and she shrugged his hand off.

The minute they ascended the steps, the front door opened.

"Oh God, Hermione!" Potter cried, throwing open the screen and pulling her into his arms. Draco pushed down the urge to deck him. "Are you alright? Where have you been? What happened..." He trailed off as he caught sight of Draco and Jonathan. "Who are you?" he demanded pointedly.

"Look, Harry, I'm fine. These men are helping me. I need to go away for a bit but I just wanted you to know that I'm alright."

He didn't look convinced and Draco didn't blame him.

Suddenly, a flash of bright light of a messily thrown curse bounced off the porch. Draco looked at Jonathan who nodded. He would take care of it. A slim hand slipped into his and he looked over in surprise. Hermione was holding onto him as she looked out in horror.

Leaning over, he whispered to her. "It's okay. Jonathan can handle it. Go say goodbye."

Nodding, she let go and threw herself once again in Harry's arms. "I'm sorry for not getting a hold of you sooner, I really am. I'll be back soon and I'll explain everything."

She tried to pull away but Potter held her to him possessively. "No, who are these men? Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. I love you and tell Ron I love him as well." She pulled out of his embrace with tears in her eyes and as she came up beside him, he made the mistake of wrapping his arm around her tightly. Potter was on him in an instant. Another misplaced hex soared over their head but neither gave it a second thought as Potter slammed him into a support beam.

"What the hell have you done with her? Imperius curse? What?" he screamed, shoving him a second time.

"Get off, Potter!" he growled, throwing the other man across the porch. "I'll protect her with my life, I promise."

Pulling Hermione tight against him, he smiled as she wrapped her arms around his waist. With a whistle to Jonathan, he apparated the two of them to the front foyer of the Bradford family home.

*****

TBC...

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